


Philosopher, part 2

by detectivejigsaw



Series: Sergeant Carter-centric [3]
Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: Christmas, Drabble, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 12:32:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13636371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detectivejigsaw/pseuds/detectivejigsaw
Summary: Little drabble about Schultz coming to Barracks Two craving strudel, and finding Carter instead.  Companion to both "Hidden Depths" and "Important."Any questions?





	Philosopher, part 2

_So cold…_  
_So tired…_  
_I’ve been on guard duty for hours; I wish I could have a snack._  
_Like strudel, mmm…_  
_Perhaps I will see if the cockroach has made any strudel recently that he would be willing to spare his old friend Sergeant Schultz._

His mind made up and his stomach growling eagerly, Schultz wandered towards Barracks 2, empty rifle slung carelessly over his shoulder.  
To his disappointment, however, when he came into the barracks there was no sign of Lebeau. In fact, the barracks was practically empty, except for Carter, who was sitting at the table, writing something on a piece of paper.  
Schultz sidled towards him, asking, “Where is everyone?”  
Carter smiled innocently. “Oh, hi Schultz. Colonel Hogan said to tell you that they’re in the rec hall.”  
Something in his wording instantly made Schultz suspicious, and his somewhat piggy eyes narrowed. “Is that really where they are?”  
“Do you want me to tell you that it’s not?”  
“No!”

With a tiny satisfied smile, Carter went back to work.  
Schultz was about to irritably stomp out and go sulk around the fence about his chance of being denied a free meal (well, free unless they asked him for some kind of information in return), but curiosity got the better of him.  
“What are you working on?” he asked.  
“My letter to Santa.”  
The response briefly caught the old sergeant off guard; even knowing how youthfully innocent Carter was, it was still the sort of thing he would expect to hear from one of his five children, not a grown man.  
“You still believe in Weihnachtsmann?” he asked incredulously.  
“No.” Carter shrugged. “But some of the guys think I do-” a brief grimace of irritation crossed his face- “so I try to humor them.”

Despite himself, Schultz felt oddly indignant on Carter’s behalf.  
He sat down on the bench on the other side of the table, and said, “You don’t have to encourage them.”  
Carter blinked. “What?”  
“If you don’t like them to think of you that way, or to-to patronize you, you should do something different. You could be…”  
He paused, unsure how to say it, but Carter seemed to follow his train of thought. “What, be bitter and cynical, like Newkirk?”  
Thankfully, his tone was faintly affectionate despite his words. “Yeah, I know I could try to be different than I am. But who would that make happy? Not me, that’s for sure. And it wouldn’t help them to have one more person who can’t see the bright side on occasion.”  
“ _Ja_ , but that doesn’t mean you are not deserving of their respect!” Schultz argued, waving one big hand in some exasperation.  
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” Carter tried to mollify him. “They respect me all right, especially after-” he paused, flexing his right hand and glancing at it- “after-after such a long time of working together.”  
Schultz decided that he didn’t want to know what he’d stopped himself from saying. All he said was, “I just worry that you are encouraging them to look down on you by catering to their expectations, Carter.”

After a moment, Carter smiled at him softly.  
“Thanks, Schultz.” Then he pushed over his paper. “Want to see my list?”  
Schultz looked down at it, curious again. His brow furrowed as he read.

  * Some fresh carrots and sunflower seeds for Felix
  * A new pair of gloves, with a soft fleece lining if possible
  * A book, preferably something by H.G. Wells
  * Some warmer winter clothes in addition to the gloves



“...What?” Carter asked, looking at his expression.  
Schultz looked up at him. “I just didn’t expect it to be so short. And I thought maybe you would ask for an end to the war or something.”  
The younger man shrugged. “Even if Santa were real, I don’t think that he’d be able to give abstract things like that. And if we really want the war to end, we’ll probably have to work to get that ourselves, and I doubt it’ll be possible by Christmas. But there’s a chance I could have these things by then.”  
It was a surprisingly pragmatic line of thought for Carter. Schultz wasn’t sure what to make of it.  
To his slight relief, at that moment some of the other POWs, including Lebeau, came crashing into the barracks, and he set about begging for any spare delicious morsels the little Frenchman might have concocted recently.


End file.
